A Boy Named Andrew
by Bill Gates Jr the 4th
Summary: Hi again! This will be a much better version, and I will do it in different parts. The cliffhanger in former part one just didn't fit here. Well, r/r and I'll be on my way! Ta-ta!
1. Default Chapter Title

Hi again! I got really bored, so I decided to post the entire "A boy named Andrew" series again, revised cuz what I wrote before was pretty much crap. lol. Anyways, I own some things in this story, but I don't wanna list them, so everything belongs to J. K. Rowling now.   
  
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Part One  
  
Somewhere in the depths of London, there was one particularly small apartment. It was the fifth from the right of a quaint apartment building, second floor. No lights were on in the compact living room, but the blinds on the windows were pulled up, and the various monotonous greys of a dreary, rainy day were the only things intruding upon total darkness. Inside the room, two young faces, not older than about 25 years old, wore expressions that matched the weather.   
  
  
One face showed a dark brown-headed female with staggeringly white skin. Her complexion could not be completely attributed to genes or facial powder; almost everyone in her world was pale because of the terrible displays that had errupted recently. For she was a witch, and every witch or wizard there was was facing dark days. An unbridled, deadly wizard had steadily risen in power until he was more mighty than the Minister of Magic himself. His feared name was Lord Voldemort. And she was his daughter. Diane Riddle. The most hunted woman alive.   
  
  
Not more than a few inches away from Diane, a second doleful face dampened the atmosphere. This was a pretty average face in comparison to hers. With brown hair and lightly tanned skin, Andrew was, in a word, plain. His eyes were a boring hazel, and all vitality seemed to be gone from him. There were dark circles underneath his eyes because he had always been an incorrigible worker, an unbridled achiever. He was Diane's boyfriend, but he couldn't stand it when people called him that. Boyfriend was such a loose term, more for frivolous 12-year-olds exploring puppy love than what he felt. Around her, his hazel eyes seemed to turn deep, dark brown, and his hair had a spark of blonde in it. She was everything to him. And because of her d--- father, she was forced into hiding.   
  
  
Andrew turned glanced at Diane for the last time, even though he didn't know it. He drank her in, because every time he saw her might be the last time. "So, can I visit sometime tomorrow?" he half-asked, half-pleaded. Diane's sigh was titanic. "I don't know. I don't know who could follow you...don't know who to trust...anymore..." her voice trailed off. "I'll pick up some things and make you a fantastic brunch, 'kay?" "Sure, just...bye." Andrew got to his feet and walked out of the room. He inhaled deeply and began to apparate back to his grand mansion. A certain dark blue box jingled in his pocket, and the precious diamond within it instigated a wave of memories.  
  
  
Both Diane and Andrew had been in the Ravenclaw house at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and they had been fast, eternal friends from the moment her blue, blue eyes connected with his hazel ones. Well, every year except for their seventh. That was when they had surpassed the boundaries of friendship; all of the intellectuals in their school had been well aware of their relationship. Both had earned the title of prefect, and both had been considered for Head Girl or Head Boy, whatever the case may be. However, Andrew had achieved Head Boyhood; a pretty and popular Gryffinor girl named Hannah had been chosen for Head Girl. Joy retreated from Diane and Andrew's relationship because the Head Boy and Head Girl did everything together. Some would later say that it was a motive.  
  
  
Andrew's luxurious home was to be expected of a Ministry of Magic researcher like he was; it was out in the basically uninhabited country of Scotland near the Ministry itself. It was 2 stories high and was simply gigantic. It came equiped with a pool, tennis courts, soccer fields, and gardens. He wanted Diane there to share it with him. But first, he had to pop the question and actually remove the signifigant azure box in his pocket. He apparated up to his immense bedroom and climbed under his covers with his work clothes still on. Sadness always tired him out. Perhaps the sun would reign over the clouds tomorrow.   
  
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	2. Default Chapter Title

  
Blindly, Andrew followed Bartimeus Crouch to the cold, stone room that served as the wizard court in London. Crouch pished the door open and pointed to the seat reserved for Andrew. He would never forget that hand, the cruel, grey hand that would doom many innocent witches or wizards. He inwardly shuddered.  
  
Mr. Crouch, reeking with cold confidence, stepped to the judge's bench. He sat, his cold, blue-grey eyes sweeping the room, silently accusing each one in it f a crime. Andrew had heard many rumors that some people were affected more by Mr. Crouch than the creepy dementors, and now he knew exactly why.  
  
There was a loud banging of doors and almost everyone jumped. Two dementors dragged a full body bound Dianne into the room. The look of fear and the absense of the merry twinkle in Dianne's eyes made Andrew fervently wonder if this room was hell. The atmosphere suddenly got significantly worse as Judge Crouch's icy, determined voice broke the uncomfortable silence that had settled on the room.  
  
"Amy Dianne Riddle, daughter of Martha Katherine Dedmon Riddle and Thomas Marvolo Riddle, has been charged with the murder of Wilma Anne Matthews and of direct association and following of the infamous warlock, Lord Voldemort. If she is proven guilty of these charges, the penalty will be death." A harsh grin spread over Crouch's face. "A long, slow death," he finished, his frosty eyes staring at Dianne's own scared green ones.  
  
Dianne pleaded innocent, and her mother, Andrew, and her best friend Kathleen testified to support it, but the entire court already knew the outcome of the situation. After a few minutes confrencing with Alastar Moody, the auror who had caught her, Lucius Malfoy, Taylor Crabbe, and Mark MacNair, Dianne was sentenced guilty. Her eyes were dead now, and her lips turned blue. The two dementors came up to her and one of them uncloaked its head. Andrew watched in horror as Dianne Riddle, the girl he loved and wished he could marry, the innocent woman who was to be killed by an insane man, became utterly and completely soulless. He screamed a silent scream and fainted.  
  
Andrew was revived shortly after and he quickly apparated home. He was given the day off because of the trauma he experienced, but he was expected the next day. He stayed in his room and looked at Dianne's picture on his mirror. She was smiling and hugging him. Her black hair was rumpled and her green eyes were laughing as his dark brown hair began to stick up. His blue eyes were slightly embarrased. He then pulled out the diamond that he had saved for her...just for her. He kissed it rather sentimentally and put it back in its box.   
  
A week from that day the Daily Prophet had a small article in it informing everyone that the convicted Dianne Riddle had died of starvation after having her soul sucked out from her body. Andrew ripped it up. He looked at the picture on his mirror and flushed it down the toilet. He hated her! She was going to ruin his life! If she'd cared about him at all, she never would've gone out with him! She should have known that her last name would land her at Azkaban or worse! Why had she done it? Why?  
  
Andrew never got over her death, and, for the next three years, he did all of his work mechanically. His boss, Timothy Pickle, had noticed, and, instead of firing him, gave him the year off to go explore the world. Andrew accepted greatfully. Maybe then he could find a way to...accidently...end his life.   
  
Sorry that was so angsty (that does mean depressing, right?) This is part 2 out of who knows how many, and I hope the others will be better. Hey, when you review, guess who this dude is, alright? Remember, if you flame me, give a reason!  
  
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J. K. Rowling except for Dianne, Martha, Andrew's first name (his last is hers), Crabbe's first name, and MacNair's first name. Don't sue me, I am eternally broke. 


	3. Default Chapter Title

Andrew flew to varius places around or in Europe by plane because he wanted to see some scenery. Or that's what he told anyone who asked, at least. He knew that all he was doing was using up all of his money so there would be no problems after he...died.  
  
He was almost out of currency when he landed in what was, he decided, the last place he would visit. It hadn't been quite a year, so he decided to stay there for a while. He rented a hotel room in a muggle hotel, as there was very little wizard activity in such a small place as Albania.  
  
It was a run down little place, and it was located right beside a large, swampy forest. Andrew had one of the 5 rooms that it offered, and it was swarming with ants. He performed a quick spell, hoped for no Ministry officials to be around, and unpacked.   
  
Having already purchased a ticket home, Andrew had no money left after renting the room for a month. There was almost nothing to do in Albania that was free, and he had to rob food from unsuspecting muggles. Needless to say, this did very little to boost Andrew's morale.  
  
After putting up with the ramshackle hotel for 3 weeks, Andrew began to plan his little "accidential" death. He took only his wand out of his room with him for the last time. He then began to brave the forest.  
  
He walked aimlessly for around an hour, never noticing the scratches that the branches were giving him. He didn't care. He was about to climb a tall tree and fall off of it when he heard some leaves behind him rustle.  
  
He sharply tuned, but decided it was nerves. He began to climb, branch by branch, to the top limb of the gigantic tree. He sat there for a while, gathering his courage. Then, he looked down at the bushes. They weren't shaking anymore. That was because the thing in them was at the bottom of the tree.   
  
Andrew cried out in horror. Without meaning to, he slipped off the branch. As he fell, he could only see the foggy vapor thing with the awful, angry red eyes and slits below them for a nose. He hit the ground and layed there, prone, for a very long time.  
  
Disclaimer: Everything but Andrew's first name and the muggle hotel belong to J. K. Rowling.  
  
A/N: When you review, please guess who Andrew is; no one's gotten it right so far. And, if you flame me, give me a reason! 


	4. Default Chapter Title

A few hours after his accidential fall, Andrew opened his eyes. Ouch, his head hurt! He carefully pulled himself into a sitting position, leaning against the tree. His vision blurred, then came back into focus. What was he doing still alive? That had to have been hundreds of feet that he'd dropped off of. He sighed. He would have to find another way to have an... accident. Rubbing his head again, he began to search for his wand. He was hungry.   
  
He found it lying in a puddle not too far from him. He reached over to pick it up, but it wouldn't budge. He frowned and tugged harder. Nothing happened. His head fogged for a moment, and he sat down until it wore off again. He reached back over but stopped dead. He screamed a terrible scream that curdled the blood of anyone within several miles of him. It was that...thing, the thing he'd seen before falling. He hopped back to the tree, trimbling.  
  
"Hello, Andrew," a high, freaky voice whispered. "Wh-What are y-you?" he stuttered. "I am a wizard, the same as you. A powerful one."  
Andrew frowned. "Th-then wh-why are you like w-water?" "I have had a terrible curse bestowed on me. I should've died." "Wh-which one?" Andrew asked stupidly. The thing grinned with a slit that could be considered a mouth. "Avada Kadavra." Andrew was plastered to the tree by now. "B-but...the only w-wizard to s-survive th-that one is H-H-Harry Potter! And he's, he's, ten now!" Andrew's mind thought hard. Then it clicked. "Y-you're n-not...L-Lord V-V-V-He who m-must n-not be n-named?" The evil grin became considerably more evil.  
  
"G-give me my wand!" Andrew cried. "What will you do with it?" Andrew stuttered, "K-kill you!" He smiled yet again. The wand was now in Andrew's hand. "Uh-uh-uh locomotor mortis!" He cried. The thing laughed. The green flash of light that had left Andrew's wand now acted like a boomerang. It hit an unexpecting Andrew and bound his body. The thing slithered up to his body, touching his wand. "Yes, I may have been destroyed, but I am still powerful. And wouldn't you like to have the power...the power to oh, say, kill Bartimeus Crouch?"   
  
Andrew spoke through his teeth. "You're evil. I don't want your help!" "Oh, yes...the evil part. Now, both you and I know that Dianne, my daughter, was inncent, correct?" Andrew's eyes searched the red, angry eyes that were now above him for a trick. He found nothing. "Yet Barty, dear old Barty, sucked out her soul and thereby killed her." "Shut up!" Andrew whispered through clenched teeth. "And still, Bartimeus is considered a 'good guy.' Now why is that? Because he is powerful. I am considered evil because I am the most powerful wizard of all time." Andrew looked up at him, beginning to believe him. And the thing on top of him was happy to see that his charm was working.  
  
"Now, if you cast your lot in with me, you will become more powerful than him, and, if you're good, you will kill Bartimeus. Destroy the man who ruined your life. When you join me, you will first help me have a body and rise to full power. I will reward you with power and the death of old Barty. Then, your name shall be feared. And, if you wish, you may die after that." Andrew was shaking by now. "I'll just kill myself now and let it be over with!" "Oh, but you can't! You're body bound and, if you ever become 'un-stuck', you can rest assured that I will not let you kill yourself. Voldemort's charm was at its peak, wrapped around Andrew's heart and forcing him to believe all the things that he said.  
  
Andrew felt his hate of evil and love of good flooding away from him. Good people did evil things because they had the power. And he could have the power...the power to kill Bartimeus Crouch! He was decided. "All right, I'll try it." He whispered. He became un bound quickly. "Only," he said, sitting up and looking at his newly decided master. "What do you need with me? I'm just a researcher." "The Hogwarts School needs a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. You will, before the term begins, steal the Sorcerer's Stone out of Gringotts-with my help," Voldemort added, seeing the doubting look in Andrew's eyes. "Then you will teach the children dark arts, dark, dark, dark magic. I will become a human again, and I will kill the Potter boy. If you fail to recover the stone, Dumbledore will bring it to Hogwarts; I know him well. Then you will steal it and not fail. Then I will reward you: Bartimeus Crouch will die, and so will you."  
  
Andrew nodded. "How must I carry you?" he asked. He felt rage seep from the vapor. "You will call me master." Andrew bowed fearfully. "Yes, master. How shall I carry you, master?" "Better. We will both apparate together back to your apartment where you will apply and recieve the Defense Against the Dark Arts job." "Yes, master." "NOW!" he cried. With that, Andrew Quirrel apparated back home.  
  
Hee Hee! Finally done! Everybody knows the rest of the story, well, that is, if you've read HP and the SS. And who hasn't? Anyway, review, review, review, and (as always) if you flame me, GIVE ME A REASON. Well, no more Boy Called Andrew to finish! *dances around the room* YEAH YEAH YEAH. Anyway, BYE BYE.  
  
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J. K. Rowling except for Quirrel's first name.  



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